FO4 One Shots: Iris Chronicles
by iamfrom101
Summary: This is where I occasionally drop a one shot here and there. Fallout 4, of course, as assumed by the title. I'd appreciate any feedback you guys are willing to give!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay. I haven't written in quite a while. I know my writing quality is a little under par right now, but so be it. I need to get back in the swing of things, start writing on a more regular basis. I forgot just how soothing and cathartic it is._ _Hope it's decent :)_

 _Come say hi on Tumblr: iamfrom101_

 _Also, check out the band Laith. Figured I'd add in a plug for a friend of mine that is in it. Show 'em some love!_

 **Disclaimer: Post Blind Betrayal—Spoilers!**

Would You Love Me Then?

Iris POV

 _Black_ by Pearl Jam

 _Apologize_ by Laith

 _"What if I was human, Arthur?" Danse asked. "What if I were—the real Danse was—replaced by me? Would you take me back then? I mean. Would you take_ him _back then?"_

 _The look in the Elder's eyes told me he was seriously contemplating it._

 _"Possibly. He would have to give me good reason—he could not have been brainwashed by the Institute. He would have to be put down then, too. This is all if he is even alive—if he was real at all to begin with."_

After Maxson left, I said my goodbyes to the ex-Paladin. I never knew I would end up going back. But all the time I wandered around the Commonwealth trying to find my son, my thoughts never left him. My mentor was just sitting there in the old listening post, alone. And probably still sitting in his self-loathing while he was at it.

I kept thinking of all the ops we'd ran together, all the times he had my back. All the first watches, and the _let me go first_ s. All the times I couldn't help but notice how strong he was, both mentally and physically.

How could I have not stood up for him? Synth or not, Danse has always deserved the best—and has always given one-hundred and ten percent of himself in the Brotherhood's name.

After a while of guilt laying on my chest, I went back to Listening Post Bravo to find that he'd made it halfway livable down there. I told him that I wanted to keep traveling with him, despite my holding Paladin rank within the faction that now hated his guts. _Traitor,_ they called him. Like he knew, like he could help it. For a while there, I was just about sure he was going to kill himself due to his true identity.

He said he wouldn't want to risk getting caught out there—that my rank was too important, and that I shouldn't want to travel with such an abomination. This was when it slipped out.

 _"Abomination? Danse, you're anything but. I enjoy being with you, and… I've grown quite fond of you actually." His thick brows knitted together in confusion. "I've never said anything before in fear of fraternalization, but, well… That's not a problem anymore, now is it?"_

 _His brows came out of their stupor and rose to the top of his forehead. "Are you saying you're… in love with me? But. This doesn't make any sense. How you can be in love with… well, a machine?"_

 _"You're more human than anyone I've ever known, Danse. And Arthur is a damn fool to send you away." I smiled at him. "You'll always be human to me."_

He continued to seem confused about my confession, but ultimately, he let me know he'd been feeling similar feelings—he just didn't know what they were until I'd pointed out my own.

With this new mindset between the two of us, and after traveling together for a couple more weeks, we soon became inseparable. I'd never felt so secure and loved, and he said he'd never known what it was like to have somebody be _this_ kind of close—he wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

We'd made our home at an old coastal cottage up north near Salem. We'd also moved Dogmeat and Codsworth there from Sanctuary Hills. And when we found Shaun, he'd make a fantastic addition. Danse said he was nervous to have a kid around, and my son from before the War nonetheless. But also said he was excited to be able to have a family with me, since he knew he couldn't father any himself.

* * *

"Iris?"

I turn from my bowl of Sugar Bombs to Danse. "Hm?"

He sets down his own spoon and faces me head-on. "I haven't been all that honest with you." He glances downward toward the table we sit at, seeming hesitant to continue.

"About…?"

"Who I am. I know I just learned about my being a synth, but you don't know who the rest of me is. Or who the real Danse was anyway."

"I know you came from Rivet City, made a life for yourself by opening your own stand in the marketplace before joining the Brotherhood."

"Yes. All that's true. But. I know who you are. You're Iris. I'm just… Danse. I've gotten used to just being called that for years now, and never put much thought into using my first or middle names. I've never needed to until now."

I gasp mockingly. "You mean to tell me that your name isn't Danse? Who am I actual with right now, then?" I laugh as he grins and his cheeks grow a slight hint of red.

"Yeah, it is. My full name is Saul Johnfield Danse. You can call me Saul if you want to. I understand if it's weird, or you're just used to Danse, but—"

I cut him off. "I love it." I smile warmly at him. "It fits you."

"Really?" His brows scrunch together as he grins, embarrassed. "I never thought it did."

"Nope, it does. Trust me, Saul."

He grins again. "Okay. Maybe I can get used to it now with _you_ saying it."

* * *

Over the course of a few weeks, Saul's name settled quite nicely with both of us. I even took to calling him Sully for some reason. I didn't understand it when it slipped out the first time, and I still don't understand it to this day. It's like calling a man named James _Jim._ Only the first letter makes sense. But he told me he likes it, and it comes naturally to me, so Sully he shall be.

* * *

We made the mistake of wandering around the Salem ruins one day, and ended up near the Longneck Lukowsky's Cannery. And we didn't realize that a full patrol of Brotherhood soldiers had just unloaded from a Vertibird in the area.

Not even including those in power armour, the Field Scribes and Knights' faces were stunned when they saw him, to say the least. _We thought you were dead. The Elder ordered it,_ they'd said in shock. Thankfully, I was able to come up with something on the fly to stop them from shooting him themselves.

 _I found the human Danse in the Institute—the one they modeled the synth after. This is him—the Elder allowed him to step into M7-97's Paladin shoes._

They seemed to believe it for now. Although I was sure they were going to confront Maxson about it as soon as they boarded the Prydwen again. I knew we had to act. And fast.

* * *

I step onto the observation deck and see Maxson standing there, all stoic-like, hands clasped behind his back. He's facing away from me, looking out toward the Commonwealth. Yet, he hears my entry, and somehow knows it's me know is standing here.

"Paladin Iris."

"Sir."

"I have had word that you and your chosen… company… have been out and about. Is this true?"

"Yes, sir. It is."

He finally turns to look at me. His face—as usual—shows no amusement. He looks a bit angry in all honesty. "Care to clarify?" he asks.

"We were just near our abode up near Salem. We had no idea a patrol was scheduled for that area, or we would've steered clear."

He nods. "It is not only that that I am referring to." After a semi-confused look from my face, he continues, "That squadron also reported of your… explanation as to why he was alive. Enlighten me as well, please." Although his words are polite, his expression is not.

I look down at the floor, avoiding his eyes. "It seemed the best way for them to leave him alone. He's not hurting anybody up there with me." I pause. "But," I meet his gaze, "what if there really was a Danse, a _human_ Danse? There could still be a chance that the Institute is still holding him." I don't bother to use his first name, as he wouldn't be recognized by it, more than likely.

"I doubt that, Paladin."

"You don't know. Shoot, I don't even. Just… after saying that to them, it got me wondering. I'm already in the works of planning a trip down there to see for myself. What if I find him? Can he join back?"

He gives me an odd look, as if I've lost my marbles. I already know I have.

"On the slim chance that there is a human Danse, and that he is still alive, he would have to pass multiple inspections in order to join us again. I am afraid he would have to start out at the Initiate rank. We cannot risk him holding such a high position within the Brotherhood after being with them for so long." He throws his hands in the deep pockets of his battlecoat. "So, maybe."

"Thanks, Elder." I smile at him. "I'll report in as soon as I can." I spin and leave the airport.

* * *

Once I meet back up with Sully where we split, we start to head home. He didn't want me to travel all the way to the airport by myself, but I also didn't want to risk him getting caught by any more soldiers.

"What did Maxson say?" he asks me.

I decided during the trip to the airport that I didn't want him to know my real reason to travel back to the Institute. I take the evasive route.

"Just that he wants me to check in on some business for him. In the Institute. I should head out shortly after we get home."

He looks at me confusedly, but doesn't ask any more about it.

* * *

"Alright." I sigh, standing up from the bed. "It's about that time. Business awaits." _I've stalled long enough._

Sully sighs after me. "I guess it is." He goes to the shelf in our room where I've kept his holotags ever since he gave them to me back at the listening post. After placing them around my neck, he tucks them into my shirt, out of sight. But I'll know they're there. "Come back to me."

"Always." I place my hand on his cheek. He leans into it, smiling—but it doesn't touch his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I don't really know. I feel scared for some reason—worried."

"There's no need to be. I've been there before. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? Hopefully no more than a few hours."

He smiles again, trying to convince me. But it doesn't work. It never does when it's fake.

"I'll be fine," I reword it. I reach up to him, as he's almost got a good foot height difference on me, and press my lips to his.

As much as I try to make it loving, reassuring, it feels like neither of these. _Why does this feel like a goodbye?_

* * *

"Ah, Mother. I'm glad to see you arrive once more."

I turn and am greeted by my 60-year-old son. "Hello… Shaun."

I've been struggling to refer to him as anything remotely similar to my son. _This is not how his father and I would have raised him. Is he even my son, other than by blood?_

"Our Watchers have been successful in finding you getting on rather well with our synth, M7-97. I'm happy to see you have found a… suitable lover now with my father gone."

My eyes go wide. I've heard that the birds of the Commonwealth were actually synthetic spies created by the Institute, but never put much thought into it. …Especially the times I noticed them outside the window when I was _with_ Sully.

"Um." I try to form a coherent thought outside of _My son has seen me intimate with something he helped create._ "Um, yeah. It's a good thing, I suppose."

"Now," he continues, seeming unfazed by my awkwardness on the topic, "unfortunately, no video could be captured. However, we have been able to get some decent audio files of the conversations held within that airship you travel to work in. The airship belonging to the Brotherhood of Steel."

I try to keep my face from seeming shocked. _What all have they heard? What plans?_

"We know why you're here," he concludes. "You wish to see for yourself if the human Danse is still available. I'm sorry to say that I have some things to attend to, but I will have faculty from all divisions on standby for your assistance. Those from Robotics and the SRB would be my best bet for help. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Shaun?" He turns back to me. "…You actually have him?"

"Yes. He is one of the few cases of subjects we've kept. Or, should I say, one of the few cases that survived their stasis. I'll have somebody from Robotics come and escort you. Excuse me now." He turns and walks off to who-knows-where.

* * *

"Miss?" I shift my gaze to the woman coming my way. "I'm here to show you to our stasis pods." She heads toward Robotics, expecting me to follow. I do.

Once we get inside the division, she leads me to yet another door, and we slip inside the room on the other side. It's filled with pods similar to the one I was stuck in for two centuries.

"It's really quite exciting, ma'am, having you in here with me. I rarely have any company, and showing off what I do is _thrilling_. Not too many know about this room, or its occupants, other than myself and a few others." _Well, she's a bit eccentric._

I'm listening to her say all this, but her words hardly register, as I'm too busy looking at all the technology.

She cuts into my thoughts when she says, "Here he is. One of our only surviving stasis members. You see, most people's biology do not agree with being held over ice for long. Luckily, he could."

I peek inside the glass on the door of the pod and see who appears to be my Sully in no more than his skivvies. He has the scar over his right eye, the small mole on his left shoulder. All the details I've come to recognize—details I know better than my own. _They did a good job with the finer things… Have to give 'em that._

The woman continues her talking, "I was told you were to take him with you. But I need to do some testing—just to make sure he can continue living outside of this pod. I need to—"

"How long have you had him?" I cut her off. "Like, when did the Institute take him to make M7-97?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. Protocol and all that. You understand."

"Yeah, I guess." _Doesn't mean I have to like it, though…_ I peer into the pod again as I wonder if he has been in this since before I met him… or after. I shake my head to clear it. "Anyway. As you were saying."

"As I was saying, we need to run some tests—both cognitive and physical. I also understand that you have created shared memories between M7-97 and yourself—not with the human Danse. That can also be arranged. We can transfer the memories from M7-97 to this man, and wipe all memories of being a synth, as well as his stay here with us."

 _His stay with you?_ I think. _It's not like it was a cozy hotel accommodation. He was held prisoner after being experimented on!_ I don't say any of this, though.

I turn my gaze from the pod to see the woman at an intercom panel. "Hi, this is Roz from Robotics. Can I get a Courser from SRB for retention of M7-97, please? Thanks."

"What do you mean 'retention?'"

"We're getting our synth back so we can make the data transfer. After human Danse is up and functioning, we can reclaim M7-97 in the back of the Synth Retention Bureau division. You can pick up exactly where you left off with M7, and have a _human_ lover again!" Her smile fades after seeing my wide-eyed expression.

"Are you crazy?!" I look and point over to the pod where 'human Danse' remains. "He's not my Sully—M7 is! I don't even care that he's a synth, cause he's all I know. I love him for who he is, not _what_ he is! _He_ will not be the same as my Saul."

"I guarantee you, Miss. He will be identical. You won't even be able to tell. That's what we here at the Institute strive for: human perfection in synthetics."

"You can't do this. Call the Courser off. Now!"

"I can't do that. He's already on his way, and probably already has M7 in his possession, if his training has had any effect. M7 will be beside you in no time." She smiles and moves to a table with her work atop it.

* * *

After no longer than ten minutes, I have Sully standing next to me. Shut off like I've seen so many synths before.

"Turn him on!" I demand.

"He's been recalled, ma'am," the Courser which brought him in says. "I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"You can, too!" I yell. "And you will!" I turn toward the woman who has been frustrating yet interesting company. "Roz, tell him!"

She seems surprised at my use of her name, but ultimately tells the Courser to do an anti-recall code, or whatever she calls it. After the Courser speaks this simple phrase, he leaves. Not a moment later, Sully straightens up, alert.

He looks around, and even though this place is not in his memory, he instantly knows where he is. He sees me. "Iris, what's going on?" he whispers. "Why are we here? We have to find a way out of here!"

"I'll leave you two alone," the woman says, and leaves the room of pods.

Sully seems surprised to not have noticed her presence before her announcing it. "Why am _I_ here?" he asks once she's completely gone. "I know you were here, but why me? How'd I even…" He looks so confused, as if it's hurting his brain to try and process it.

"…Because of him." I point toward the pod all conversation has revolved around for the past hour.

Sully walks over to it, looking inside. His eyes grow round. "Is that…? Is that me?" He looks back to me and I nod, feeling a stinging start to form behind my eyes.

"They said they'd take your memories, minus the synth identity part, and implant them into him. They'd remove all memories of the Institute interfering with his life, and it would all appear as a bad dream. He'd be released, and even allowed back into the Brotherhood—they wouldn't try to brainwash him into becoming a traitor."

He comes back over to me. "That sounds ideal."

"What? No. They'd be taking you back." I can't see how this could be ideal in his mind.

"Yes, it would be. It'd be perfect. All this would go away. The BOS could get back one of their best officers, and he wouldn't be an abomination in their eyes. He'd just step in my place and everything will continue on, but as it should."

"Sully, you don't understand. He's not you. _You're_ you. I don't want him—cause _you_ are all that matters. _You._ You understand?"

"Iris." He plants his calloused hands on both of my biceps. "He _is_ me. Or rather… I'm _him._ It's how it's supposed to be. I shouldn't be here, and with you being in the Brotherhood, you know that. And you should agree to it, Paladin."

I'm shaking my head furiously. "I won't have it. I'd kill him before he took over your life." I get an idea. "Unless… Unless _he_ could go back to his old life." I look up at him, my eyes taking on a crazy edge to them—I know they are.

"He could go back to the Brotherhood, continue his life where it left off. If the Institute can erase some of his memories, they can take me out of his memories altogether. They wouldn't have to take you back, we could just leave. We could move out of the Commonwealth, go back to Rivet City where you came from. We could open up another junk stand, become junk vendors. We could keep going."

I'm grasping at his shirt now, trying— _pleading_ —for him to agree to this insane scheme. But he just looks down at me, a sad smile on his lips. _I know that look…_

"Iris… You know that's not how this should go."

"Maybe not, but that's how I want it. Please, Sully, please. Just do this for me." I lay my forehead on his chest as my eyes finally produce the tears they've been threatening to for a while now.

"Iris…" He hugs me to him. "I'm going to make the decision you can't. I just hope you can learn to forgive and thank me later." I lean back and look at his face, but he refuses to meet my eyes.

"Sully, what are you gonna do?"

"They try to get us to forget things like this. But I remember it."

"Sully?"

"M7-97, initialize factory reset, authorization code—"

"Saul, no!" I lurch to cover his mouth, but he finishes before I can reach him.

"Lambda, nine, seven, two, Vega." With this, he falls still, resuming the position he arrived the Institute in—hunched over, seemingly dead. A reset synth.

The arms once used to embrace, the lips once used to smile and kiss. The whole of which is Sully is slumped over.

"Saul!" Tears are running down my face at such a rate, it's hard to see him clearly. "You idiot, you can't do this to me!" I turn toward the door the woman disappears from. "Roz! Help me!"

She slums in, not as fast as I feel she should. "With what, Miss?"

"Wake him up! He just used his recall code!"

"Hm." She looks perplexed. "He shouldn't have memory of it strong enough to use it on himself. Interesting. That's something I'll have to report to the Bureau…"

"Roz, focus! I need him awake. Help me! Please!" I repeat.

"I can't help you. I'm sorry. Although a recall code is usually needed only once, the limit is twice. I'm sorry to say that he's shut down permanently."

" _What?!_ " I fall straight onto my butt, gripping my head in my hands. "This can't be happening…" Right here and now, I curl myself up into a ball on the floor, distraught at how he just took himself away from me for good. _How could he be so selfish?!_

"Well, since he's already shut down, and I've been running those tests on human Danse since earlier, I'll go ahead and get the data transfer started."

I'm aware of when she and another Robotics scientist move Sully. They take him to the other side of the room, out of my line of sight, as they prepare to combine him and the "real" Danse.

I'm also aware when seemingly a few minutes later, she comes back to me. "The transfer is done. Took longer than expected, but it's done. He should be waking up soon—anywhere from one to several hours. We went ahead and took the liberty to move him back to your home. So, you can go on home now—he'll be waiting in your shared bed."

Without my permission, shortly after she says this, somebody—I don't even notice who—sends me home through the relay.

* * *

"Good to see you home safe, mum," Codsworth says as I walk in the door of my house. He has no idea of everything that had just happened—he just thinks I'm back from the Institute as I'd planned.

I walk past him without saying a word or looking toward him, and start to head upstairs.

 _He can't be that much different,_ I try to convince myself. But no matter how hard I've tried to do this very feat, the back of my mind keeps thinking how Sully betrayed me, using his recall code to ensure his human counterpart had a shot.

Normally, I'd think it was a brave and very noble thing to do. A synth understanding that it is a breach of human technology, and surrendering its life to allow humans to remain in control.

But not this go around. _How dare he take himself away from me forever. I don't care if I have a human version of him. It's still not_ him.

Somehow, I feel as if I'm in the shoes of all the people in the Commonwealth who has had their friends and family members taken and replaced by synths. It's stupid to say it like that, but that's what it feels like. Like my Sully was taken from me and replaced by an identical copy. It just so happens it's a reversed role situation.

As I near the door to the bedroom, I listen in to see if I can hear the semi-familiar snores I hear from Sully occasionally. Or that I _heard_ from Sully occasionally. But I don't. Continuing on, I step through the doorframe to see a form lying in our bed. It's him.

He's tuned on his left side, facing away from me. He's breathing deeply, sleeping soundly.

I want to go closer, see his face up close for myself. But I can't for some reason. I turn and go back downstairs to the red sectional in the living room.

Codsworth floats by. "Mum? Aren't you going to sleep upstairs with Sir?" He'd taken to giving Sully my late husband's name after they got comfortable with each other.

"Um. No, Codsworth. Not tonight. I… don't want to bother him right now—he's sleeping well."

"Alright. At least allow me to bring you a pillow and blanket. It's a bit nippy down here—according to my internal thermometer." I nod, saying this would be fine.

Once my robotic butler from two centuries ago brings me his promised accommodations, I lay down and try to fall asleep, however difficult.

* * *

"Iris." I try to open my sealed eyelids, but it's proven hard to do. "Iris?" I try again and successfully open my eyes, and am met with two more eyes in front of my own.

I jump back slightly. "What are you doing on the couch? Come in late?" I'm perplexed. Or disturbed, to say the least. Unsure how to respond, I shrug. "Nightmare?" he guesses again. After all of what happened yesterday in the Institute, I'm pretty sure it's safe to say I did go through a nightmare. So I nod.

"Yeah," he continues. "Me, too." I lean up on the couch as he sits down next to me. I feel myself wanting to retreat, to find a place of solace away from this reminder. But I can't move.

"Had a dream last night that I was a synth—got exiled from the Brotherhood for it and everything. Arthur almost killed me cause you refused to do it. I even used my own recall code to make sure the human version of me had a chance to live. You were so mad with me, for some reason."

During all of this, he doesn't realize that I've started to cry. Him explaining everything like that did me no favours—all it did was remind me of what I know I need to forget.

He looks over at me. "Are you crying, Iris?" His brows pull together, highlighting the scar over his right eye—just like it used to when it was M7. I nod again, sniffling. "Is it the dream you had?" I shake my head, not really knowing how to answer anymore. "…Is it mine?"

I let loose a sob, and in the process, letting him know that's exactly what it is.

He scoots closer, laying his hand on my shoulder, but when I put out from under it—to get away from his touch—his brows pinch together even tighter. And after a moment of deliberation, he asks, "Was it real? Please tell me it wasn't…"

I look down at my lap, where my hands lay folded. I shake my head, undecided if he should know or not. He heaves a sigh of relief.

Standing, I move into the laundry room, needing to get my hands—my mind—occupied before I go crazy. A few minutes later, he follows, wrapping his arms around my waist. It's something he'd always enjoyed doing: feeling my small frame in comparison to his, like he could protect me from everything in the world. But I can't stand him being in contact with me, so I throw the shirt from my hand and take a step to the side, alleviating myself from the uncomfortable feeling he's giving me.

"Iris?" He seems confused again as he takes a few steps back. "This is the second time you won't let me touch you this morning." His gaze shifts to the side slightly, as if trying to recall something. "Did I do something in my sleep last night? Or did I get drunk, do something I'd regret, and don't remember it? Seems out of character for me, but this is odd for you." He moves in a bit closer. "What did I do?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing a single tear from them. I shake my head—again. I know he's gotta be getting tired of it, but I can't say anything to him, or do anything worth while in this state of mind.

I quickly make up my mind. _I need to get out of here._ Pulling all my energy together, I whistle through my teeth, guaranteed to gain Dogmeat's attention. Once he shows, I go to walk out the door with my dog by my side.

"Iris!" His tone takes on the edge from the days of his being my superior officer. It stops me in my tracks. Slowly, I turn to face him. "I _need_ to know what's going on. …Where are you going?"

I take a deep breath. "Diamond City."

"And you're not taking a weapon." His question sounds more like a statement—it's obvious I'm unarmed.

"…I have Dogmeat." I go to leave again.

He barges his way in front of me, completely blocking my exit. He knows this is the only way to stop me now. "Let me go with you."

"I need… time. Away from here. Away from—" _You,_ I was about to say. "Away from everything."

He can tell he's lost this fight, that he won't be traveling with me. "You'll die out there. Diamond City isn't close."

"Well. We'll find out then, won't we?"

I step around him and enter the vast Commonwealth.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: There's a writing style later on in this that seems to be unedited and incredibly out of style for me. Trust me, it was intentional. And I hope you can understand why when the time comes._

 _There's a few references in here that just make me giggle my mf butt off and I wanna share without sharing them. So. See a looong word? Google it. See a mention of drinkware? YouTube it._

 _Lowkey inspired by one of rinasai-rambles' screenshots on Tumblr. Go give her some love! She's awesome *heart emoji*  
_

 **Post Blind Betrayal**

Going On A Trip After Coming Home From One

Iris POV

 _Hey You_ by Pink Floyd

When I came home, Sully was nowhere to be found. Usually, after my solo ops, he'd always be there to greet me. Give me a hug, a kiss, make me feel like I was missed. This time, nothing.

I tried looking around the house to no avail. Codsworth told me he had seen him not an hour before I showed up, and since it was getting late, I wasn't about to wake up Shaun and ask about his stepfather's whereabouts. He most likely hadn't seen him in a few hours himself. I figured I'd go to bed and try to get some rest.

Seemingly a few minutes later, I'm woken up by the door being opened and closed. Whipping my eyes open, I see a nude form in front of me. "Saul?" I ask the near darkness.

"You're home." The pleased voice confirms it's him. "When did you get in?"

I sit up a little as my eyes adjust. He must have just gotten out of the shower, as he's drying his hair with the towel around his shoulders. I'm guessing he didn't bother to put anything on as he was about to go to bed, and the only other person in the house is asleep—so he thought.

"I'm not sure." I rub some of the sleep out of my eyes. "I looked for you when I got back, but couldn't find you. Where were you?"

He answers as he continues to get the wetness out of his hair. "I was out in the garage for a while, but the air coming off the water was so nice, I went for a walk. Wishing you were with me." He looks up, and now that my eyes are better adjusted, I can see him smiling at me. "Now I don't have to wish." He takes the towel from his shoulders and wraps it around his waist. "I've missed you, Iris."

"I've missed you, too, Sully." I stand and make my way to him, wrapping my arms around him.

As we stand in the middle of the floor embracing, I notice his stature to be a bit off. Leaning back, I look at him. "Saul? Have you gained weight?"

"Probably." He looks away, a bit sheepish. "I haven't been hitting the gym as much as I usually do. …And I think I've been stress eating. With you gone and all." He looks back to me. "You know how I get when you leave without me."

"Same here," I say. "You know I'm the same way."

He finally looks at me—I mean _really_ looks at me. "And you haven't been eating, have you, Iris? Again." He looks at my torso in disappointment, my muscle mass in disapproval. He knows me all too well.

"Well, Saul… You know how I am. It's hard for me to remember these things. They seem so trivial when I'm out there alone—"

He can see past my tank top and shorts pajamas, past my façade. He takes a step back. "Iris, you don't have to be alone out there. I know Arthur gives you ops to run, and you'd rather not put me in danger. But it has to be one or the other it seems. Cause I can't have you going out there this often, when you never seem to remember simple selfcare.

"When was the last time you ate something—had a meal?" I don't have an answer, simply because I don't remember. "Okay. What about a drink of water?" Again, I have no answer. I look down to the floor. I don't want to let him down, but I can't lie to him either.

He slowly steps closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Iris. You can't be doing this. Please tell me: did you forget… or did you refuse?"

I take a moment to answer, but finally tell him. "I couldn't. I wasn't thirsty, and food just… revolted me. …Like normal. I felt like if I tried to eat something, or even drink some water, I'd just throw it up again. I guess I thought, 'Why waste supplies?' you know?"

He takes his hands off my shoulders just to place them on either side of my face. Lifting it to look at him, he repeats, "You can't do this, Iris. You're not only hurting yourself. You're hurting me. You don't know what it's like to have the person that matters the most to you physically ill, and you can't do anything about it."

I close my eyes. "I do try, though. It's not like I don't. I make food, I sit down and try to eat it." Opening my eyes, "I just can't force myself like we both want me to." I place my hands over his, taking them off my face, but keeping them in my grip. "Saul, I don't want to hurt myself, and I especially don't want to hurt you. But it's just something I can't help. I've always had this problem—ever since I was a kid. And I don't think there's anything I can do to stop it now."

He pauses for a moment, then a wild and sudden look of an idea runs across his face. "We just need to know how to counter it," he says. "Be right back." He opens the door and all but runs out of the room.

Stupefied, I sit on the side of the bed.

A beat later, he comes in holding what seems to be a Jet inhaler, and he's traded his towel for a pair of boxers. "What's this?" I ask him as he gets on his knees on the floor in front of me.

"It's called 'healing powder.' Comes from somewhere out West. Had to mix it with a bit of Jet so you could take it easier. Probably take effect sooner, too, being respiratory and all."

"You want me to take that?" I ask, perplexed. "You hate chems. Do you even know what this 'healing powder' is? And why do we have Jet in the house?"

He sighs. "Yes, I hate chems," he tells me, seeming to run out of patience. "And yes, I want you to take this. Don't get used to it, okay? It's not happening often. Now, please, Iris. Just get this over with before I change my mind." He hands me the container, gripping his hand around mine as I take it from him. "For me?" I look into his eyes, seeing the worry set behind them, and decide to trust him.

I grip the inhaler in my hand and try to do it like I've seen Hancock do it in the past. I try to hold it in as long as I can so I can get the full effect. After several seconds, I can't hold my breath any longer and slowly let it all out.

"Well?" Sully asks. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know yet," I answer. "Too soon to tell."

However, not a minute later, I can feel it. I can _really_ feel it.

I lean back on the bed, not even bothering to put my head on the pillow or my feet on the end. I'm extremely tired but can't seem to close my eyes. I stare at the ceiling like I've never seen anything so interesting in my life. There's patterns on in I've never noticed before. I raise my arm and trace them with my fingers as I squint my eyes to see them more clearly.

"Iris?"

I drag my head off the bed—despite it feeling really heavy—and look at the man in between my legs. He's beautiful. I try leaning up all the way so I can touch him, but I'm struggling. He sees this and helps me into a sitting position.

"Iris? How are you feeling?"

I smile at him, blinking sleepily a few times. "I feel… fantastic." I remember he was wearing a towel earlier, and nothing before that. I frown at his boxers. Tugging on the waistband, I say, "These… th-these need to… go away." I start taking off my shirt, but same as sitting up, I'm struggling with this, too.

"Iris, stop." He grabs my hands gently, putting them back to my sides. "We can do that later. I need you to focus now."

"…Later?" I ask in confusion. "No. Not… Not later. …Now." I go to take off his boxers this time, and I giggle a little bit when I see a little bit of what he's trying to hide from me. But same as before, he stops me, pinning my arms to my sides again. "Why?" I ask, sounding whiny as a kid.

"Not now," is all he replies. Few seconds later, he asks, "Are you hungry?"

I almost completely forget what I've been wanting so badly. "I could eat a whole brahmin," I tell him. Not _completely_ forget, but I've just had a priority switch is all.

He smiles widely. "Outstanding. I'll be right back." He gets up and leaves again.

I sigh in frustration, lying back on the bed. "Keeps leaving. Won't let me touch him. He is, like, no fun at all. Fun sucker, that's what he is. Just sucks up all the fun, like a… fun sucking vacuum. A vacuum I can't change the bags in. One of those stupid… bagless vacuum cleaners that just spew dust everywhere, make giant messes. Humungous hungolomghononoloughongous messes. Like, the kind that can't be… cleaned by brooms or water. Water sees right through the dirt's bull. But still can't clean it. You know why? Cause it's stupid. Stupid dirt, stupid water. Kitchens rule. Don't like the kitchen, you suck. People need to be… drinking out of cups—"

"What are you rambling on about in here?" I look up to see the beautiful man has returned with a plate of food and a glass of something else. I successfully lean up by myself this time to see a pile of… I don't even know what. Doesn't matter. He sets it in my lap, and I go to town.

I stuff my mouth full with what I assume is meat of some sort. Can't make it out. Could be brahmin, mole rat, ghoul, or human for all I care. It tastes good. Real good. I keep stuffing until I feel some of the food falling out of my mouth—there's no more vacancy. _I need to chew faster._ I chew slower. I close my eyes, wanting to savour the flavour of the feast before me. _I need to build more room for this meat. No vacancy means no more room, and no more room means it won't want to come back. The food will run away with its second cousin and get married. And they won't be staying here in this mouth. Cause I don't have no more room for them. The honeymoon will be a disaster, and it'll be all my fault. All cause I was too stingy to build more room. I need to…_

"Iris!" I snap my eyes open. "Don't go to sleep while eating. You'll choke." _This isn't what I'd rather choke on,_ I think toward my food, causing myself to laugh a little. "What are you laughing at?" he asks, grinning a bit himself.

"Huh-uh," I reply. "I'm not telling you. You said later." I giggle. "You'll find out later."

"Later, huh?" He smiles. "Okay, fair enough." He looks past me, probably to his dresser. "Do you want dessert now or later with that?" I shrug. He stands. He hands me a glass of water. "Drink this and I'll give it to you now."

I take the glass from him. Inside it is water. It's all clear, and almost looks invisible. I take a swig. It tastes like it came straight from the pool Jesus blessed. I chug it all until it's gone. When he comes back, he takes the glass from me, setting it to the side. I'm sad to see it go, especially empty.

"I want you to lay down first, since you're tired." I do as he suggests. "But anyway, I brought this. Figured you might like some." He opens a pink rectangle box with a bunch of colourful circles on it. _Fancy Lads._

"I can't eat these," I tell him, looking up at him in confusion as he sits next to me on the edge.

"Why not?"

"They're yours. They're special to you."

"They are… But so are you, and I want to share them with you." He unwraps one and hands it to me.

I take the cake from him, feeling more special than I ever have in my life. I swear I'm about to start crying. I eat the whole thing in one bite and I'm in heaven. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel colours, I can see sound. I hear the cake singing to me, I see beyond this world and into another. One where nothing is wrong and all the people are the best and food never tastes bad or is burned and you can't get fat from eating all these sweet things and you can sleep in for as long as you want and not get yelled at by anyone and teddy bears are free and your sons are always good people and your neighbours always bring back your dishes and the flowers take all your compliments and blankets are make from unicorn hair and the mega seeds don't hurt when you hide them and fireworks never burn down the oceans and plastic and oil don't litter the forests and pink and grey giraffes are the shortest and most loved animals on the planet and aliens are nice and bring casseroles when they visit and—

* * *

I feel sunshine on my face. Opening my eyes, I see the sun shining in through the window to my left—the west. _I slept in?_ I look around the room. Saul isn't here, but he must have left the two bottles of water and the box of snack cakes on the table next to me.

I put the covers back and stand, retrieving the water. My mouth feels so dry, like I haven't had a drink in at least a decade. Before I know it, both bottles are empty. The cakes don't even interest me. _They'll just make my mouth drier._

I leave the room to try and find my husband. Hearing the sound of feet on the treadmill in our home gym down the hall, I follow the sound. And as I figured, he's on the treadmill in a jog.

"Finally wake up, huh?" he asks. Pressing a button, he slows the conveyor down and steps on the sides to stop for now. Stepping off, he grabs a towel to wipe his brow and arms. "I have to say, you probably slept for a good twelve, thirteen hours."

"What happened last night? I feel like I should know, but it all seems like I dreamt it."

"Well, you might have. But, from how you were acting, I'm pretty sure it was more than just a dream." He chuckles. "You came in late and went to sleep. I had just gotten out of the shower and apparently woke you. Um, let's see. You called me fat—"

I gasp, "No, I did not! I said you'd put on a little weight."

"Same thing," he says. "Anyway. I noticed you were slimmer than usual and wanted to get you to eat something. But I knew you wouldn't work with me, so I gave you a little help."

"You gave me some kind of chem. Then everything just went crazy, and that's where I can't tell if it's a dream or not."

"It wasn't, I'm sure. When I went and got that chem, I put on some boxers—didn't want Shaun waking up and wondering why I was running around the house naked—but soon as that drug took effect, you were hellbent on getting me out of them. Like I was some kind of modern day Adonis."

"Well, I mean, you kind of are," I tell him. He gives me a flat look, although his slight grin proves to me he liked the compliment.

"Anyway," he says exaggeratedly. "Once I mentioned food, you were all over that idea. I went and got a plate of the roast Shaun and I had made earlier—came back to hear you rambling on about something to the ceiling. Something about how kitchens rule and people need to be drinking out of cups?"

I shrug. "I don't remember any of that conversation with the ceiling. Although, I'm willing to bet it wasn't just one sided, from the sounds of things. Sounds like I was really off my rocker."

"A bit," he admits, grinning about something I can't remember. "You just about fell asleep while eating. I had to wake you up a few times so you wouldn't choke." I laugh. "What?"

"I remember what I was wanting to choke on instead."

"What's that?" he asks. I just laugh harder at his inexperience with these things. "What are you—? Oh." His face turns a very light shade of pink when he catches my drift. "I see."

"You did tell me later. I remember _that_ part." I smile at him.

"I suppose I did, huh?" He grins, too.

"And you are all sweaty already…"

He doesn't waste any time after my comment. He picks me up as I sling my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. He kisses me all the way to our room, then gently throws me on the bed. After peeling off his shirt, he leans down over me, continuing to kiss me. From my lips, down to my neck, lifting up my tank top to caress my stomach with his mouth. Disappearing layer by layer of clothing, we are joined as one. A single body, a single heartbeat. A unity created in bliss. It's over all too soon, but the feeling remains.

After a while of lying together, I break the silence. "You know what?" He shakes his head against my shoulder, keeping quiet. "This world, the contentment I feel right now after being with you, is the best. I went to a strange world last night. And at the time, I was really digging it. But now, it all seems stupid, cause this is the only world I want to visit. The best part, is I can take you with me to this one."

I swear I see him smiling. He asks, "What was the other one like?"

"It was chaotic. I feel like I could see everything at once. There were so many colours and beings floating everywhere. Everything made sense, but nothing made sense. It was really odd." I look down at him. "I don't think I want to take that 'healing powder' again."

"I don't blame you. …What do you feel now?"

"I'm… comfortably numb. Like, there's no overload of senses. Just… happiness. And us."

He squeezes me a little. "Same here. Just us."


End file.
